


Meddling In Magic

by JazzRaft



Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Alternate Universe - Witchcraft, Fluff and Humor, M/M, Sensuality
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-11
Updated: 2018-11-11
Packaged: 2019-08-22 08:15:05
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,091
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16594193
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JazzRaft/pseuds/JazzRaft
Summary: Ravus had a problem. A problem in potion-making which forced him to seek out advice. He should have known when he knocked on Ignis Scientia's door that problem would multiply into two. The witch's familiar never ceases to cause him trouble.Set in the same universe/parallel universe asBlack Cats & Magic Caps





	Meddling In Magic

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Aithilin](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Aithilin/gifts).



> Originally posted on [tumblr,](http://jazzraft.tumblr.com/post/179984567507/so-witchy-aus-how-about-ravus-ravus-getting-too) requested by [aithilin.](http://aithilin.tumblr.com/)

“This was a perfect example of how _not_ to do things.”

“Thank you for that incredibly astute observation, Scientia. But if I was looking for someone to tell me what I already know, I would have wasted twenty gil on the strip-mall psychic downtown.”

“I think that’s his way of calling you smart, Specs.”

It was not. But he didn’t have the patience to argue a cat into correcting himself. They could never be persuaded into thinking they weren’t right, anyway. Swat a cat for knocking a priceless heirloom off a table, and they knocked off two more when you weren’t looking. Scold a familiar for not wearing any pants when company was present, and he sprawled out, bare-ass nude, on the couch for the entire duration of the visit.

If he lifted a leg over his head and started licking his balls, Ravus was _out of here._

“Your _pet_ could do with some disciplining.”

“Are you volunteering?”

Real charming. Would that he had the time to flog him in the basics of human etiquette – namely _wearing clothes_. Much as he might have enjoyed teaching him a lesson in humility – enforcing a modicum of modesty into those shrewd, blue eyes – Noctis was not his to punish. He was just here to get his damn potion fixed, get out, and whip up a spell to make them forget he was ever here. As if Noctis’s proclivity towards constant nakedness wasn’t embarrassing enough, the nature of Ravus’s arrival was even more mortifying.

“Is this… a _love_ tonic?”

Ravus grit his teeth and wondered if he could pass off the nature of the potion as the mistake he’d come seeking aid for. _“No, of course not! Don’t be ridiculous. It was intended to be a clairvoyance draught to better anticipate the machinations of those who would destroy me…”_ That was actually pretty good. He could use that.

But before he could construct the string of words into a sentence for verbal use, Scientia squared him with a look that brooked no denials. The man knew his brews. That’s why Ravus swallowed his pride and came to him in the first place.

“So, Frosty Fleuret really does have a heart,” Noctis purred from his lounge. “Finally find that special someone that made it grow two sizes one day?”

“I take back what I said. Your pet doesn’t need discipline, he needs a muzzle.”

“Kinky. Iggy?”

“Quiet please, Noct.”

“Gotta get the muzzle for that,” Noctis said, grinning at Ravus.

He turned his gaze Hell-wards, begging the elements of chaos and disorder to give him strength. If not to smite the meddlesome mouser, then to outlast him. Surely, it wouldn’t take Scientia long to remedy the faulty product and spare him any further misery in his company. If his reputation had any merit, there was no witch’s recipe he couldn’t correct – and none he couldn’t concoct himself.

He was the master, if rumor was to be believed. And with a cursed cat prince favoring him as his companion, there must have been something to it… Not that he could ever consider the likes of _Noctis_ as a measure of success. Scientia could be just as half-witted as his familiar. Birds of a feather, kittens of a whisker, as it were. In which case Ravus embarrassed himself with this encounter for nothing.

Scientia milled about his workshop – a kitchen; how rudimentary for a witch of such wide regard. He sniffed at the vial in his hand, sampling droplets of Ravus’s potion – if it could even be classified as such, the state it was in now – and wrinkling his nose at the bitter taste. He sifted through neat rows of mason jars, all labeled in crisp, cursive hand-writing and packed with earthy blends of spices, clipped roots, dried seed pods from the odd flower here and there. He plucked through the bar of fragrant herb bundles above his window, each touch brushed over one emitting its distinct scent throughout the kitchen.

Ravus tried not to look _too_ invested in his process, not with Noctis’s divested stare puncturing the side of his face, waiting for evidence that he was not the great sorcerer he claimed to be, waiting for an admission to his master’s talents. As if his coming here wasn’t proof enough of that. But Noctis seemed keen to add insult to injury, so Ravus remained stone-faced until Ignis was finished.

“While the elderflower was an apt choice,” Ignis mused, not so much critiquing Ravus’s recipe so much as talking himself through adjusting it. “I believe a bit of jasmine” – he sprinkled a generous portion of white petals into the flask; the foul, dark drink inside instantly began to lighten – “and a dash of nutmeg, I think…”

Ignis held the vial by the neck, turning the bottle in circles to stir the extra ingredients into the mixture. As the contents swirled, the color transformed, and by the time the chemical reaction had settled, the vial glowed with a delicate, rose-gold liquid. He smiled to himself, an affirmation of success as he whiffed the scent off the top. He handed the vial back to Ravus.

“Jasmine?” he asked, skeptical, even with a more promising perfume wafting from the bottle. “That’s all it took to work?”

“It should make the recipient more attentive to you, taking better notice of you in a crowded room, listening with a better understanding of what you’re trying to say. It’s subtle magic, not a guarantee of true love.”

“I’m quite aware of the law, thank you.”

To force a person to fall in love with him against their will was to deal in the most repulsive dark magic, and would deal such a reprehensible blow against his honor for even considering such a spell. He wasn’t desperate enough – and even if he were, he would never be cruel enough – to demand an unwilling thrall to satisfy his desires.

But if the object of his affection could just… _see_ him. Not so much for physical attractiveness, or his pedigree, or the eloquence with which he’d been groomed to speak; but for the things he didn’t know how else to show to a person to make his affections known. He wanted them to take the first step. He knew that he was being a coward; he should just seek out the courage in his own character to take that first step himself… But if he had the power to ensure some innocent intrigue, why not use it?

“Will it work?”

“There’s no guarantee until it’s tested...”

“Test it, then.”

Ignis stalled there, blinking dumbly at the request. He glanced between Ravus and the potion, a question in his eyes, as if Ravus didn’t know exactly what he was asking. Ravus rolled his eyes.

“Honestly. You’re a professional, are you not?”

“Yes. Quite. Right…”

Ignis reached for the potion.

“Wait, no! I’ll test it.”

For a minute there – one, merciful minute – Ravus had forgotten Noctis was here. He’d half hoped he’d scampered off on feline fours to go nap in a shoebox or something. But no. He stood up from the couch – still very much naked, Ravus _was not_ looking at how naked he was – and entered the kitchen, snatching the vial and giving it a sniff.

“Noct, no,” Ignis tried to command him. “You’re just getting over the last daemon you didn’t digest. I don’t want you getting sick again.”

“I’m fine, Specs. Besides, it’s my job to protect you from scary strangers coming to the door asking you to taste weird drinks for free.”

Ravus paid his sly glance no mind. He just wanted confirmation that the damn drink was going to work the way he wanted it to. He didn’t want to poison the person when he just wanted them to flirt with him a little. It wasn’t a particularly potent potion or anything. Nothing that would result in effects neither Ravus nor Ignis couldn’t easily control. If Noctis insisted on being the guinea pig, then Ravus could only pray for a negative side effect and take his potion elsewhere to get it properly amended.

“It’s not permanent, right?” Noctis asked. “You’ve got a remedy once you know it works?”

“Yes,” Ignis sighed, resigned to Noct’s volunteer service. He dragged a small jar of enchanted smelling salts across the counter. “You won’t be enthralled with Ravus for all eternity.”

“He would be so lucky.”

“Just drink your medicine, cat.”

Noctis affronted a pout. Ravus continued to be unamused. Finally, Noctis took a small sip of the potion and set it down. He leaned against the counter, and they waited for the enchantment to take hold. Promising, that it didn’t take very long – Ravus wasn’t generally a very patient man.

Noctis looked up, eyes drawn straight to Ravus with the immovable curiosity of his more feline predilections. Wide, blue irises stayed fixed to Ravus, even when Ignis tested his attention by announcing plans to bake one of his favorite snacks. Good. The focusing power of the spell was working well enough. Though it was a little unnerving to be centered by that stare, dark and unreadable beneath the ebon feathering of his hair.

Noctis spoke, lips tugging up into a smirk. “You seem nervous, Ravus.”

Ravus’s brow creased. Nervous? That wasn’t right. The spell was supposed to make the recipient see him a little clearer, meaning his grace, perhaps; his intellect; his capacity for intriguing conversation; the command of his presence. He _wasn’t_ nervous… Though Noctis _was_ naked… And not that bad to look at; insufferable, but attractive.

Anyone would be nervous around a good-looking naked man they couldn’t stand… Nervous that he was never going to put clothes on like a civilized person.

“I’m merely anxious for the potion to work properly,” he said – as if he needed to explain himself.

Noctis nudged himself off the counter and – to Ravus’s unending humiliation – approached him. Walking slowly, purposefully, bare feet padding lightly on the linoleum floor. _Prowling_ towards him, Ravus realized. Those intent eyes hooded slightly, lips curled into a smile as he stood before him, the sole proprietor of his attention, _and_ his affection, if the slow, soft drag of a finger up Ravus’s arm was any indicator.

“Don’t be anxious,” Noctis murmured. “I want you to feel good.”

Noctis leaned closer – _naked_ , so, _so_ naked, goddamn shapeshifters, he could smell the woodsy lilt of his skin so clearly. Ravus knew he should probably signal for Scientia to break the spell, the potion worked – it worked a little _too_ well, he might need to dilute it a little more, just to be safe – but Noctis was pressed against his chest, palms on his coat, balancing on his toes to purr in his ear,

“You deserve to feel good. I see how hard you work, how strong you are. You have all this power and no one sees it. But I do. And I like it.”

Alright! Test, aced; cat, off! Ravus just barely managed to keep himself from wrenching the fawning fool off of him, firmly, but gently taking him by the forearms and directing him into Ignis’s. He was ready with the salts, one quick swipe of the jar just beneath Noct’s nose, and his familiar was blinking away the clouds of hypnotic haze to vex Ravus with his smart mouth once again.

“How’d it go? Did I seduce you? Because it damn well looks like I seduced you.”

“Scientia, I appreciate your service,” Ravus said, voice tight and face hot and he didn’t know why because _damnit_ he was supposed to be just as professional as he scolded Ignis into being. “Clearly, your recommendation comes with merit. I must be off.”

Ravus quickly turned on his heel, dropped the pouch of payment on the first table he saw on the way to his door, and failed not to slam it on his way out. The crisp, autumn air was like a blast of ice crystals against his red cheeks.

Once he was long gone, Ignis scrutinized Noctis, stretching his arms over his head and drawing his spine into the curve of his back. “You seemed like you were enjoying yourself.”

“He makes it too easy,” Noctis chuckled. “Don’t worry, it’ll work fine for his little human puppy love.”

“Your antics are going to get you into trouble one day.”

“You’re the only trouble I plan on being in, Specs.” Noctis looped his arm around his master’s neck, happy when they were reciprocated by Iggy’s arms around his waist. “Now, about that muzzle.”

**Author's Note:**

> This is actually one of my favorite things I've written this month lol Let Noct off his leash and all kinds of things happen!


End file.
